Walk the Earth Unseen
by Beatrice Otter
Summary: Head!Six keeps watch over Gaius. And debates.


Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth

Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep.

—John Milton, Paradise Lost

* * *

Gaius Baltar sleeps, slumped in his chair in the pitiful lab that is all Galactica can manage for him. If he were awake, he would say he is alone. He isn't.

Two beings watch him. Let's call them messengers. If Gaius could see them (and sometimes he can see one or the other, but never both) he would see a woman, tall, blond, in a red dress. Others would see other things, if they could see them.

"I have better things to do than watch a human sleep," one said. "I know you do, too."

"I don't," the other said. "My other tasks need not distract me."

"But why would you _want_ to stay with this pathetic, puling excuse for a human being? This self-centered, immature, arrogant ass who's more concerned about his own reputation than anything else. He's too weak even to be interesting to _me_, if you weren't here. Too easy to corrupt. He's nothing like those bright shining humans and Cylons you're so fond of."

"If Gaius is weaker, then he needs more help. The strong ones need less constant attention."

"You spend all this attention and care on him, and what does it get you? He's still a weak, pathetic loser who can't tell the difference between us. You're wasting your time with him. For every decision he's made that you like, every action that you prodded him towards, he's followed me five or ten times. He'd _rather_ listen to me, not because he agrees with me but because he's selfish and weak, and he'd rather have his little fantasies than deal with reality. And don't say that just means you need to spend more effort with him. He'll never choose you, because he doesn't _want_ to. He doesn't want to have to face anything."

"But he still listens, sometimes. Sometimes, he chooses truth over deception, justice over his own gain. He couldn't do it alone, he wouldn't even know how to begin. But even a small step is better than none at all, for him and for those around him. I would never abandon him. No matter how hard he tries to lose himself, I will always find him."

"How poetic. I suppose it doesn't matter to you that he doesn't _want_ to be found?"

"I won't make him choose the right, but I won't abandon him to make the choice alone."

"Or leave him to my tender mercies, I suppose."

"That, too. You have no mercies, and no tenderness. If you understood either, things would be much different."

"You have no understanding of _me_."

"And you have none of me."

"And poor, dear Gaius is caught in the middle, with the rest of the vermin. And he's so broken he can't even tell the difference between us. Smashed into little pieces like shattered glass."

"People break all the time. You break them. But I build them back up, into something better than they could have been otherwise. Mosaics of color and light. If they let me."

"He won't."

"He may yet."

"He doesn't _want_ to be built up. Too much hard work. And he likes me better, anyway. It's so much fun to play with the broken ones. They hear me so much more clearly."

"That's unfortunately true. But you forget one thing: they also hear _me_ much more clearly, once their petty certainties and preconceptions have been lost. Mortals blind themselves so very deeply, but there comes a time when even they can no longer close their eyes. You can't stop that. It must drive you mad, that no matter how you toy with them, tempt them, break them, you can't prevent me from being with them in their pain and suffering. You can't prevent me from using that suffering to build them up, to work in their person and in their lives. You can't shut me out. And if you can't shut _me_ out, how much less can you shut out the one who sent me?"

"You still can't stop _me_ from breaking them in the first place. And that must drive _you_ mad. It's all pointless, anyway. This has all happened before, and it will all happen again, and you will be stuck mired in the shit, trying to make beauty out of crap and nothing. I have better things to do than watch him sleep."

If Gaius had been awake, and watching, he would have seen the messenger sweep an ironic bow, and vanish. That's not what it did, but it's how a human would have perceived it.

The other messenger stayed. Gaius would have it smiled as it came towards him, and moved him into a slightly more comfortable position.

"Sleep well, Gaius. I will keep watch. All this has happened before, and it will probably happen again. But the other one is wrong, you know—" and it leaned down, whispering in his ear "—it won't repeat forever."


End file.
